


Well, That Went Well ...

by unsettled



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Community: sherlockkink, Drugged Sex, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-13
Updated: 2010-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:59:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes experiments on Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well, That Went Well ...

**Author's Note:**

> For this kink meme prompt: _I want to see Watson as high as a kite and equally horny. Holmes does his best not to take advantage - it's up to you if he does or not._

Holmes is watching Watson. He knows it was reckless and will earn him at least a week of glares and lectures between being pointedly ignored, but his results from testing this newest drug on Gladstone had been useless. So far, Watson has shown no signs of reaction, and Holmes is beginning to think his experiment has been a failure after all. An hour passes, and Watson's only reaction has been to fall asleep on the sofa, not uncommon at this hour of the afternoon. Holmes sighs and turns his attention to his own barely skimmed paper.

He has become well engrossed in a story that is beginning to look like a possible case when Watson wakes. He pays him no heed, but finds his attention redirected when Watson speaks.

"Holmes," and his voice is slightly off. "Did you give me something while I was asleep?"

"I am completely innocent of that," he replies, eyes firmly on the words before him.

"Because I feel … odd. Um," and Holmes lowers a corner of the paper to watch John Watson flush, blinking rapidly and shifting as though something was ever so slightly wrong. Holmes is curious; at this point, he's not even sure what the drug will do, since none of the reactions he predicted have appeared. Watson has stilled, staring at him with his lips parted as though about to speak. His hands are moving restlessly over the upholstery, twitching and stroking. Holmes wonders if he should do something; he doesn't want to kill Watson, after all. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

He rises and goes to Watson, crouching before him to peer into glazed eyes. "Watson?" but there is no reply, and Holmes begins to feel the slightest tinge of fear. "Watson!" he says again, and slowly, slowly, Watson's eyes focus on him.

"H…Holmes," he stutters, and then, "I, oh, there's," his eyes closing, then snapping open. His gaze is disconcertingly focused, and Holmes has only a moment to swallow before Watson's hand shoots out and fists in his shirt, dragging him closer for a heated kiss. Holmes is frozen, cannot move, cannot act, and all he wants to do is melt into Watson; Watson's lips are hot and rough against his and he moans into Holmes' mouth. Holmes breaks away, only now aware of the clever hands that have pulled his shirt from his trousers and are working up his sides, sliding to press spine and nipple and stomach, and Holmes is gasping "Watson, ah, Watson," and he has wanted this, wanted wanted wanted, but he's not going to have Watson leave in the morning. He pulls away again, and rolls off Watson to rest on the couch beside him, his mind only now beginning to stutter into motion. Before he can form more than the beginning of a protest, Watson has followed him, is straddling his thighs, pressing hot, wet kisses into his neck, his jaw, his mouth, and those hands have found his cock, teasing it out of half opened trousers. Holmes arches into the touch, his head falling back, and Watson is drawn by the line of his neck. It is too much, and Holmes gives in, desperately rising to meet Watson's hands, almost, ah, almost. Watson's hands still as he comes himself, shuddering breaths burning Holmes' skin; between one heartbeat and the next, Watson has slumped, passed out over Holmes' lap, and Holmes grits his teeth in frustration at the sudden lack of orgasm inducing touches. He closes his eyes and clenches his fists tightly.

"Goddamnit!"


End file.
